# Chapter One Of A Book I'm Working On...



## cillian_murphy_fangirl (Sep 13, 2008)

_“Mommy, where’re you going?” He asked; his voice small and he appeared pitiful with his face red and a mess of tears.
His mother didn’t glance back, she was leaving him with his drunken father, and looking back at her son would only make this harder. So she just shook her head as if that was an answer to the simple question, and then continued walking. Her child collapsed to his knees, only five years old, and sobbed. His mother didn’t love him that was the only thing he could think of for her leaving. Now he’d be alone with his father, who in reality, terrified him. Though he didn’t look back at his father, he’d already had enough of the man. “Please don’t go…”
His mother kept walking, and closed the door behind her.
And that was the last he ever saw of her._

	Drops of blood stained the snow; more of the crimson liquid ran down his arm slowly, before sinking into the beautiful white powder. He knew the bleeding had to be put to a stop, losing too much blood wouldn’t be good, especially since he was in the forest. Groaning, he climbed to his feet, his eyes rose to the face of his attacker. Kale smirked, catching the man who had been attacking him off-guard.

	Suddenly Kale’s finger twitched, causing the blood that had been running down his index finger to plop down into the snow and slowly sink in, causing the snow’s lovely white color to turn slightly red. The police officer stared at Kale, eyes filled with interest. What did this insane man plan to do exactly? Alone in the forest, surrounded by trees, about to bleed to death; it was obvious who’d won this pointless battle.

	Suddenly the young man jerked his hand towards his pocket, more blood splattered on the snow. He pulled a gun out of his pocket and jerked it in the direction of the officer. The officer who had planned to beat him to death was now acting as if he was just doing his job and was being attacked by an insane criminal. When in reality Kale was the one who had been framed for murdering his father and the officer was simply going to kill him. Closing his eyes he pressed the barrel of the gun to the officer’s forehead. He knew he’d have to wrestle with his conscience for quite a while after this. Finally, he forced himself to pull the trigger. Muttering a silent apology to the now-fallen officer he opened his eyes.

Sirens sounded, echoing throughout the forest, bouncing off trees and heading in his direction. The police had found out about his escape.

“Shoot…” He muttered, he would have slammed his fist down using his free hand, but that would only make the pain in his arm much worse.

	It didn’t seem fair. Kale’d only been free for less than half an hour and the police were already searching for him. The twenty-four year old wasn’t going to kill anyone else, not if he could help it, so his only other option was to run. Forcing himself to his feet with a quiet grunt of pain, he slipped his gun back into his pocket and stumbled through the forest, away from the sirens. His limp arm was moving around with his movements, slapping against his side and the too-close-for-comfort trees, every slight motion made him wince in pain. He hoped his arm would go numb soon, he knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.

“What the..?” Muttered Kale, he cut himself off, his face filled with disbelief at the odd sight he was witnessing.

	In front of him was the brown and moist dirt showing, snow having been scraped away. This however wasn’t what surprised him; in fact he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. What did shock the young man however was what was lying in the small area of moist dirt. A small boy lay there, no older than five, which was obviously much too young to be out in the cold. The boy was in a deep sleep, he wore a large winter coat; the hood of the coat was rolled up and served as the boy’s pillow. He had short and curly light blonde, almost white, hair. Small clumps of dirt were mixed into his hair, and dirt stuck to the side of his face. His eyes were closed tightly, as if he was having a horrible dream. Suddenly his eyelids parted, revealing curious brown eyes.

	As soon as he saw Kale he yelped and scooted back, until he was pressed firmly against a tree. Though he said nothing his eyes seemed to be filled with many questions, some of them Kale would most likely choose not to answer.

But the boy’s lips parted, and he did in fact, speak. “Who’re you?” He asked, his small voice trembling a bit.

“I could be asking you the same thing.” Said Kale; crouching down so he was at the same height as the boy. “What’s a kid your age doing out here? Shouldn’t you be at home with your mom and dad?”

The boy shook his head quickly. “I can’t.” He said; his voice sharp and no longer nervous.

Kale tilted his head to the side curiously. “Where are your parents, kid?”

The boy looked down at the snow; a few noticeable tears slipped from his eyes and dripped down, sinking into the snow. “Dead,” He mumbled, lips barely parting with each quiet and quivering word, his eyes rose to Kale’s face. “I have to hide from some bad people here.”

	Kale knew there was something about this kid from the start; normal kids didn’t sit around in forests when it was freezing cold, especially on Christmas day. Now he couldn’t help but feel a little bit sympathetic for the boy, having to be separated from his parents at such a young age. He sighed, something in the back of his mind told him he should help the boy and not let him die out here. It was Christmas, after all.

“Fine kid, I’ll help you out.” Kale said, standing up, he reached a hand out to the boy. “So, what’s your name?”

The boy smiled, he took hold of Kale’s hand and stood up also. “Ryan.”

“Alright then Ryan, are you ready for some food?” Asked Kale, his voice was now gentle as he spoke to the frightened child. “I know a really good place for pancakes and-.”

“Are you a bad guy?” Ryan asked, interrupting Kale’s question.

	Kale looked at Ryan, he grew silent; how was he supposed to answer that question?  Kale wasn’t exactly a murderer, well, he did kill someone. Now he’d also killed an officer too, so that’d be two people. But, he just knew something was up. He’d gone to prison for a wrong reason, and he regretted his mistake, but he didn’t know what to do. The officers had given him the death sentence, they wouldn’t listen to reason. Also the one officer that’d attacked him, planned to beat him to death. In other words, Kale had no choice. 


“No.”

“Then why were the police looking for you?” Ryan tilted his head to the side; he wasn’t going to go following some strange man who was running from the cops.

“It’s a long story kid, erm, Ryan. I’ll tell it to you later…” Kale said, he began walking in the direction of the small town.

“Like a bedtime story?”

Kale smirked; his story was anything but a bedtime story. “Yeah, sure kid.’

	Finally Ryan agreed to following Kale, he’d been hungry for quite some time and it’d be nice to eat some real food for a change. So they trudged through the deep snow, heading away from the direction of the sirens and shouts of the officers. Soon the bright lights of a city came into view; Ryan was obviously happy; judging by the grin on his tired looking face. Walking through the city Kale caught a glimpse of some shady looking men talking, a few pointed to Ryan followed by more whispering and hushed conversations. Giving them a dirty look, he directed Ryan to go to the left, wanting to get away from the group of men. There was something about this place he didn’t like. The looks he was getting from people had nothing to do with what he was wearing, when he escaped he’d managed to find some clothes which consisted of a blue t-shirt and some plain jeans, and some shoes that were a bit small for him. 

“Is that it?” Ryan asked, pointing in the direction of a large diner, it was surprisingly crowded; the strong aroma of pancakes and maple syrup wafted out of the open doors.

	Kale nodded enthusiastically, it’d been forever since he’d gone to this diner and he missed it terribly. Now someone had strung Christmas lights around the outside of the diner, indoors Kale could already hear some cheerful Christmas music playing softly. Walking in through the doors he stopped short when he saw the same men from earlier, sitting next to the only free booth. Ryan’s hand slipped out of Kale’s and he walked to the booth, scooting into the seat until he was next to the window. Kale sighed, deciding he didn’t have much of a choice, he sat in the booth; sitting across from Ryan. Tapping his fingers on the table irritably, Kale looked around, waiting for a waitress to show up. Then a word, no, a phrase, that one of the men at the booth next to them said caught his attention. ‘Just grab the kid when you get the chance’. Kale’s gaze moved to Ryan, who was looking out the window watching cars drive by. No, there couldn’t be some sort of conspiracy to kidnap this child; he was just an ordinary boy. At least Kale hoped he was, he already had enough to worry about and he couldn’t protect the kid from some sort of giant group of thugs. But right now Kale couldn’t think of anything these people would want from Ryan, maybe his imagination was just going wild.

“Sir,” A waitress snapped, the pencil in her hand pressed against the pad of paper in her other hand. “I said, 'is there anything you’d like to drink?'”

Kale’s face turned a bit red, but the redness faded away when he looked at the waitress; trying not to laugh at the ridiculous beehive hair-cut she had. 

“Just a glass of water,” Kale said, trying to remember what he liked to drink at Ryan’s age. “And a small chocolate milk.”

	The waitress nodded, she scribbled down what Kale said and walked away. Kale’s gaze moved back to the men, who’d now gone silent. One of the men, a large dark skinned muscular man, was watching Kale with interest. Feeling overpowered by the man’s gaze Kale looked away; he needed to get Ryan and him out of this place soon. Ryan looked up at Kale.

“Um…Mister-,” Ryan asked, looked at Kale.

“Kale.” He corrected.

“Kale,” Ryan said, nodding, his tone hushed. “How’re you going to pay for this?”

“I have money.” Kale said with a nod, and it was true, luckily the pockets of the jeans he wore had some money inside; hopefully enough to pay for their meal.

	Finally the large man whispered to another one of the men, the man he whispered to nodded several times while muttering something in reply. They all stood up at once; then headed for Kale and Ryan’s booth. The large man smirked, cracking his knuckles. Each of the loud cracking noise of the knuckles caused Kale to flinch, which seemed to amuse the large man. One of the men cleared his throat, as if wanting to get their attention. Ryan looked at the men, interested. Kale shot Ryan a look, wishing there was a way to tell him to run.

“Sorry to interrupt your meal, but-.” The man who’d cleared his throat began.

“We have to leave.” Kale interrupted, standing up, gesturing for Ryan to follow.

	The large man immediately placed a meaty hand on Kale’s shoulder, his grip tightening. Now Kale could feel the eyes of others in the diner on him and the group of men.

“We don’t want to create a scene.” The man said calmly, Kale sat back down, watching the man reach into his pocket and pull out an ID. “FBI agent, Jason Wood, we need to have a word with you.”

Kale eyed Jason, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t see what some FBI agents would want with us.”

Jason smiled, his smile crooked. “Not with both of you, just the boy.”

“Well we need to head home now.”

“Your meal hasn’t even shown up.”

“Yes, but it’s an emergency.”

“Sorry, but you can’t leave.”

“Sorry, but we must.”

Finally the muscular man banged his fist on the table, growling with frustration.

Jason shot the muscular man a dirty look. “Calm down Ray.”

Ray groaned, pulling up a chair, he sat down and crossed his arms.

“Now then, we need to speak with the child.” Jason said, his voice dangerously calm, and filled with venom.

Ryan looked at Kale, hoping Kale would refuse. “Sorry, we’re having a family day, and we don’t have much more time left in our evening before we go home to open presents.”

Jason smirked. “I know he’s not your son.”

Kale stiffened up, what the heck was going on? “I don’t care what you want with him, he’s an innocent kid, and he’s not going with you.”

“I was hoping we’d be able to do this the easy way.” Jason said frowning.

	Ray obviously took this as some sort of a signal; he grabbed Kale by the collar of his shirt and jerked him forwards. Jason showed the people in the diner his ID, so they wouldn’t end up calling the police. Ray dragged Kale out of the stall, and out onto the street, ignoring his struggling. Kale’s eyes drifted to the window, he saw Ryan looking longingly at him. Kale flailed his legs, hoping to trip Ray. Finally Ray dragged him into an alley way, and grabbing Kale by the collar of his shirt he pushed him roughly against the wall.

“What the heck do you want with Ryan?” Kale asked, voice quivering from the cold.

Ray chuckled loudly. “That’s none of your business.”

	Before Kale could ask another question Ray slammed Kale’s head back, forcing it against the brick wall. Kale winced in pain, only to be punched in the stomach, the wind being knocked out of him. Suddenly an elbow was brought to his jaw, breaking it; the sickening crack rang through his ears. An odd sound escaped Kale’s throat, he could hardly make a sound. Ray brought his leg up, kicking Kale sharply in the kneecap and most likely breaking it.

“Idiot,” Spat Ray, shoving Kale to the hard cement ground.

	After that it was a blur, all he could see was Ray’s large figure slowly moving away from him. After that it was just his head spinning furiously, he felt he might vomit at any minute, closing his eyes tightly he struggled to stay awake. More pain shot throughout his body, groaning he forced his eyes open, not wanting to give in. He dragged himself, injured leg limp behind him, only using the hand that wasn’t injured from when he was beaten by the officer earlier. Finally he gave up, his head dropped to the ground, hitting the hard cement. A last breath escaped his pale, chapped, lips, and it all went black.


----------



## cillian_murphy_fangirl (Sep 13, 2008)

You people can just let me know what you think of it.
=)


----------



## Lili (Sep 14, 2008)

Update it. 
NOW.
CMF, you've got brilliance in that Cillian Murphy-obsessed mind of yours. Put it to good work and e-mail me the third chapter and post the second on here.
(btw, your siggy is EPIC WIN =3)


----------



## Charizard Morph (Sep 15, 2008)

I'd like to read more of this, there's so many things that are left unexplained, it's driving me nuts already.


----------



## OrangeAipom (Sep 16, 2008)

It seems nice so far. I'll nickpick later, since I'm not sure if I'll have time to do so now, but there's one grammar mistake you make throughout this chapter.

If you're ending a sentence with a dialogue tag, you have to put a comma at the end of the talking if there would otherwise be a full stop. Also, the start of the tag should be lowercase. I don't know how to word this better. It'd be something like this:

"Hi, I'm talking," said John Doe.

"You are?" said Anonymous. "I couldn't tell. Where are we?"

"I don't know."


----------



## cillian_murphy_fangirl (Sep 17, 2008)

Hah, alright, I'll try to find that mistake. I finished chapter two, here it is:

Chapter Two
a Stay at the Hospital

	He remembered it like it was yesterday. The smile on the eighteen year olds face, looking at the paper saying he had been accepted into the greatest college around, because of his hard work and amazing grades. His grip on the paper tightened, as if it was going to run away from him. Though he knew better than to tell his abusive father of what had happened, he knew he had to tell someone. So, he had spent the entire day calling his friends and sharing the good news. Finally he decided it was time for him to go home. Folding the paper, he slid it into his pocket and drove home from his favorite diner. From the window he could see the friend who had offered to buy him some lunch to celebrate wave goodbye. Soon the car rolled into the driveway of his and his father’s home. From inside he heard something peculiar. Shouting, and crying. Climbing out of the car, he walked towards the door, slowly the key slid into the locked door and he turned it, he pushed the door open. Everything seemed to stop, at what he was witnessing. The neighbor’s nine year old son, bruised and bleeding, was being attacked by his father. His father shoved the boy aside, and left the boy trembling on the floor; he turned to face his eighteen year old son, and reached for his gun.

	Suddenly voices interrupted his memories, he kept his eyes closed, studying the back of his eyelids as he tried to see if he could remember any of the voices. They didn’t seem familiar, but they sounded urgent, maybe even worried.

“What happened to the man?” A deep man’s voice asked, his voice sounding distant.

“We’re not sure, we found him beaten to near-death in an alley.” Another voice replied, sounding as if it belonged to a young woman.

“Is he going to die?” A second female voice asked, her voice shaking.

“Calm down Annie, you’re not going to go far as a nurse if you keep wondering about the patient’s death.” The man said, sounding a bit irritated. “Just grab some Aspirin to ease the pain. Oh, and Jessica,”

The first woman’s voice replied instantly. “Yes doctor?”

“Hook him up to the IV.”

“Yes doctor.”


	A jolt shot through Kale’s body as he felt a tube slide into his veins, putting blood in and making him feel a little more alert. Not by much, but it was much better than how he’d been earlier. His eyes opened everything a blur of white, swirling colors. He could see faces, people, staring at him. But their features were blurred out, so he couldn’t tell who was who, male or female, worried or just pitying him.

“Just relax.” The man’s voice said, by his voice he sounded old, yet kind and sympathetic. “You’ll have some Tylenol and that should help soon.”

	Kale couldn’t find his voice, nor could he find the strength to simply nod in reply. So he just lay there, merely groaning in a useless attempt of saying ‘yes’. But the man seemed to understand because Kale heard him walk out of the room. Wherever he was, it was a crowded place, which was good. Here he could blend in with the people and wouldn’t need to worry about those so called ‘FBI Agents’. Then he remembered the child, Ryan. Who reminded him so much of himself when he was that age. Where was Ryan? Was he still alive? Had those men killed the orphan on Christmas day? Kale couldn’t imagine anything worse than that for a child. He’d always looked forward to Christmas, since it was the single day that his father sent him to stay with his grandparents, who were kind people. Though he swore to his father he’d never tell his grandparents about the beatings, for fear he’d never get to see another Christmas morning. Soon his vision cleared up, he saw he was staring up at the ceiling; an old looking doctor who was close to retirement was looking down at him.

“How did this happen to you?”

The words came from the doctor’s mouth clearly, but to Kale they seemed to echo and sound unclear and slurred. “I tripped.” Kale replied his eyes half-open and his words barely audible.

The doctor gave a small laugh, not sarcastic, just a polite and soft laugh. “I doubt that, unless you were on the roof of a house. We found you in an alleyway and we’ve done quite a bit of work to you. You should’ve seen one of the bones in your arm; it was poking through the skin.”

	If Kale had been listening closely, he’d have been disgusted, but he was still fading in and out of consciousness. So he simply nodded and grumbled something inaudible. The doctor sighed, sitting down in a chair next to the hospital bed Kale was in.

“How long will I be here?” Kale mumbled; trying to stay awake through all the medication he’d been given.

“As long as it takes for you to recover…” The doctor replied simply, skimming through the chart he had on his clipboard, containing all of the information he’d gotten on Kale’s injuries. “Most likely seven days.”

“I can’t stay that long.” Replied Kale simply, now sounding alert, he needed to find Ryan wherever the child may be. “I need to save him.”

The doctor looked up from his clipboard, interested. “Who’s him?”

“Ryan, my… Son.” Kale replied, deciding not to go too far into detail. “He was kidnapped.”

“Well, it’s none of my business sir, but I strongly suggest you call the police.”

Kale wasn’t going to do that, they were the last person who would help him out. “I did, and they were no help.” He lied.

“Sorry sir, but you are in no condition to search for a kidnapped child. And does his kidnapping have anything to do with your injuries?”

“Yes,” Kale said, nodding. “One of the kidnappers attacked me.”

“Alright, well hopefully you’ll recover quickly.” The doctor said, leaving.

	Kale sat up straight, his bluish grey eyes searching desperately for some way of escape. A pale freckled hand reached over to the wire that attached the IV into his arm. Wincing, he yanked it out of his arm, and ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. He knew he had to save Ryan fast, those men were far worse than normal kidnappers and they had legal permission to do what they were doing. Whatever it was they were doing. Finally his gaze rested on an exit; that was the only way he’d be able to leave. But he wasn’t sure if his legs worked as good as they were supposed to, right now he could hardly move without wincing in pain. It’d probably be much better if he waited for the nurse to give him an Aspirin. No, he needed to leave now. As of now every second mattered, no matter what got in the way he had to save Ryan from whatever lay in the future for him. He climbed out of the hospital bed slowly, flinching back when his bare feet touched the cold tiled floor. But he dropped down, struggling to stand up straight. Grabbing hold of the bed, he stumbled forwards until he found himself able to walk on his own, then he limped towards the exit. The green florescent lights gleaming invitingly, soon he picked up speed. Then he stopped, seeing a walker next to a sleeping patient’s bed, he knew he needed it much more than they did. Then he caught sight of a pair of shoes, they were his, he wasn’t exactly sure why they were in the middle of the room he and the other patient shared, but he was glad. So, bending over he put them on. Then he looked back to the sleeping patient with the walker.

“Sorry ma’am.” He whispered to the sleeping woman as he snatched the walker and leaned forwards, stumbling out the exit, he was just glad that the doors opened automatically so he didn’t need to use what was left of his strength to push them open.

	Walking out the doors, Kale shivered as the cold wind brushed against his face and ruffled his hair. Breathing slowly, trying to calm himself down and not go ahead of himself he walked forwards. Right now what he needed was information on the FBI, something that had to do with children abductions. So, he headed off towards the source of all information, the place he’d adored most of his life, and the place that a small boy’s life now depended on, the library.

(I'm going to start on chapter three right now)


----------



## Charizard Morph (Sep 18, 2008)

Careful how much you post here, if you want this published I don't think you're allowed to post more than three chapters online.


----------



## surskitty (Sep 18, 2008)

e's going to have to rewrite anyway

didn't read it, sorry, but first sentence is wordy and "His mother didn’t glance back, she was leaving him with his drunken father, and looking back at her son would only make this harder." first comma doesn't go there.


----------



## OrangeAipom (Sep 19, 2008)

Safety save.

Bold means I changed it.



> “Mommy, where’re you going?” *h*e asked*,* his voice small*.* and *H*e appeared pitiful with his face red and a mess of tears. His mother didn’t glance back*;* she was leaving him with his drunken father, and looking back at her son would only make this harder. So she just shook her head as if that was an answer to the simple question, and then continued walking. Her child collapsed to his knees, only five years old, and sobbed. His mother didn’t love him that was the only thing he could think of for her leaving. Now he’d be alone with his father, who in reality, terrified him. Though he didn’t look back at his father, he’d already had enough of the man. “Please don’t go…”


I'm not exactly sure why you changed mindreading within a paragraph, because it seems weird to me. What do you mean by small voices, anyway?


> Drops of blood stained the snow; more of the crimson liquid ran down his arm slowly*,* before sinking into the beautiful white powder.


I think the first paragraph could be worked a bit better, maybe swapping order of it so that the "stained snow" part is at the end.


> What did this insane man plan to do exactly? Alone in the forest, surrounded by trees, about to bleed to death; it was obvious who’d won this pointless battle.


It's not exactly clear if this talks about Kale or the policeman in the first sentence. The sentences following it make the word "insane" unnecessary to say.


> Suddenly *T*he young man jerked his hand towards his pocket*;* more blood splattered on the snow. He pulled a gun out of his pocket and jerked it in the direction of the officer.


"Suddenly" made the sentence slower to read, thus my imagination, so it's sort of... ironic? I don't know how to use that word. I considered crossing out the whole first sentence; the second one, to me, implies putting his hand near his pocket, since I'm assuming the people don't have psychic powers.


> The officer who had planned to beat him to death was now acting as if he was just doing his job and was being attacked by an insane criminal.


What does that acting look like? I want images in my head. It doesn't have to be a poetic description of the snow, but it has to exist.


> Finally, *H*e forced himself to pull the trigger.


Just grammar.


> “Shoot…” *h*e muttered, he would have slammed his fist down using his free hand, but that would only make the pain in his arm much worse.





> The twenty-four year old *He* wasn’t going to kill anyone else, not if he could help it, so his only other option was to run.


An exact age seems a bit awkward to me.


> “What the..?” *m*uttered Kale, he cut himself off, his face filled with disbelief at the odd sight he was witnessing.


If Kale's going to mutter all the time, can't you just change it to said?


> In front of him was the brown and moist dirt showing, snow having been scraped away. This however wasn’t what surprised him; in fact he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. What did shock the young man however was what was lying in the small area of moist dirt.


I can see dirt! Oh, the drama!


> A small boy lay there, no older than five*.* which was obviously much too young to be out in the cold. The boy was in a deep sleep*. H*e wore a large winter coat; the hood of the coat was rolled up and served as the boy’s pillow. He had short and curly light blonde, almost white, hair. Small clumps of dirt were mixed into his hair, and dirt stuck to the side of his face. His eyes were closed tightly, as if he was having a horrible dream. Suddenly his eyelids parted, revealing curious brown eyes.


Obvious things go bye-bye. I think you should mix the stuff about the boy's head color with the part about the dirt in the hair.


> “Who’re you?” *h*e asked, his small voice trembling a bit.
> 
> “I could be asking you the same thing*,*” *s*aid Kale; crouching down so he was at the same height as the boy. “What’s a kid your age doing out here? Shouldn’t you be at home with your mom and dad?”
> 
> ...


*
Just grammar, really.




			Finally Ryan agreed to following Kale; he’d been hungry for quite some time and it’d be nice to eat some real food for a change. So they trudged through the deep snow, heading away from the direction of the sirens and shouts of the officers. *insert new paragraph here* Soon the bright lights of a city came into view; Ryan was obviously happy; judging by the grin on his tired looking face. [...] The looks he was getting from people had nothing to do with what he was wearing, when he escaped he’d managed to find some clothes which consisted of a blue t-shirt and some plain jeans, and some shoes that were a bit small for him.
		
Click to expand...

Was he nude before or something? 




			“Is that it?” Ryan asked, pointing in the direction of a large diner. It was surprisingly crowded; the strong aroma of pancakes and maple syrup wafted out of the open doors.
		
Click to expand...





			Kale nodded enthusiastically; it’d been forever since he’d gone to this diner and he missed it terribly. Now Someone had strung Christmas lights around the outside of the diner, indoors Kale could already hear some cheerful Christmas music playing softly.
[...]
‘Just grab the kid when you get the chance.’
[...]
“Sir,” a waitress snapped, the pencil in her hand pressed against the pad of paper in her other hand. “I said, 'Is there anything you’d like to drink?'”
[...]
Kale’s face turned a bit red, but the redness faded away when he looked at the waitress; he was trying not to laugh at the ridiculous beehive hair-cut she had.
[...]
The waitress nodded, she scribbled down what Kale said, and walked away.
[...]
“Um… Mister-,” Ryan asked, looked at Kale.

“Kale,” he corrected.
[...]
“I have money.” Kale said with a nod, and it was true, luckily the pockets of the jeans he wore had some money inside, hopefully enough to pay for their meal.
[...]
Finally the large man whispered to another one of the men. The man he whispered to nodded several times while muttering something in reply. They all stood up at once, then headed for Kale and Ryan’s booth.
[...]
“Sorry to interrupt your meal, but-.” the man who’d cleared his throat began.
		
Click to expand...

Just grammar.



			“We have to leave,” Kale interrupted, standing up, gesturing for Ryan to follow.
		
Click to expand...

I thought Kale was sitting.



			“We don’t want to create a scene,” the man said calmly, Kale sat back down, watching the man reach into his pocket and pull out an ID. “FBI agent, Jason Wood, we need to have a word with you.”
		
Click to expand...





			Jason smiled, his smile crooked.
		
Click to expand...

This seems repetitive.



Finally The muscular man banged his fist on the table, growling with frustration.
[...]
Ray groaned. Pulling up a chair, he sat down and crossed his arms.
“Now then, we need to speak with the child,” Jason said, his voice dangerously calm, and filled with venom.
[...]
Kale stiffened up. What the heck was going on? “I don’t care what you want with him; he’s an innocent kid, and he’s not going with you.”

“I was hoping we’d be able to do this the easy way,” Jason said frowning.
[...]
Ray obviously took this as some sort of a signal; he grabbed Kale by the collar of his shirt and jerked him forwards. Jason showed the people in the diner his ID, so they wouldn’t end up calling the police. Ray dragged Kale out of the stall, and out onto the street, ignoring his struggling. Kale’s eyes drifted to the window, he saw Ryan looking longingly at him. Kale flailed his legs, hoping to trip Ray. Finally Ray dragged him into an alley way, and grabbing Kale by the collar of his shirt he pushed him roughly against the wall.
[...]
Before Kale could ask another question, Ray slammed Kale’s head back, forcing it against the brick wall. Kale winced in pain, only to be punched in the stomach, the wind being knocked out of him. Suddenly an elbow was brought to his jaw, breaking it. The sickening crack rang through his ears. An odd sound escaped Kale’s throat; he could hardly make a sound. Ray brought his leg up, kicking Kale sharply in the kneecap and most likely breaking it.

“Idiot,” spat Ray, shoving Kale to the hard cement ground.

After that it was a blur; all he could see was Ray’s large figure slowly moving away from him. After that it was just his head spinning furiously; he felt he might vomit at any minute. Closing his eyes tightly he struggled to stay awake.
		
Click to expand...

I like the plot so far. I'll read the second chapter now.*


----------

